Faculty Stories: The Complete Collection

By Rayne Summars

(18+ only - fiction)

A faculty member in a private, secluded girl's college realises that the girls are not all as prim and proper as they seem...and some are downright slutty. Each new encounter draws him deeper into a sexual haven of barely legal girls, all with their own preferences, fantasies and kinks.

His encounters escalate and lead him to all sectors of college life, all parts of the campus, and even off: from his office, to the dorms, to a rented apartment, to quickies at the graduation ceremony, and even one hell of a school trip - to Las Vegas! But it's not just the students that are pent-up with sexual frustration; he also bumps into a few other characters...some familiar, and some completely new.

"Faculty Stories: The Complete Collection" is the complete chronological sequence of the entire series, with all stories compiled into one continuous readable format. If you have enjoyed the short stories that have been released earlier, you will definitely enjoy watching the development of this character, and his various relationships and consentual sexual exploits with the girls at where he teaches.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rayne Summars
• Release date: Mar 15, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370864027

Rayne Summars

Rayne Summars goes by this pen name, and has been inspired largely by Guy New York and various blogs on tumblr. He's been trying his hand at writing erotica recently, and is currently attempting to use this platform to help fund a friend through university. As such, 100% of the earnings received go to funding this friend of his. Please give generously - both feedback and purchasing! Feedback in particular is especially appreciated!For more details, or to get in touch with him, drop him an email at [e-mail], and state "Smashwords contact" in the subject line!

Book preview

Faculty Stories: The Complete Collection

Copyright 2017 Rayne Summars

Published by Rayne Summars at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Table Of Contents

Acknowledgements

Prologue

The College Capers Collection

First Experience: Tiffany

Gym Sessions: Veronica

The Un-EX-Pected: Michelle

Rental Check: Jennifer

Summer on Campus: The Series

Summertime

Chapter 1: The Lap Pool

Chapter 2: The Pool Showers

Chapter 3: Track Training

Chapter 4: Pool Deck Tanning

Chapter 5: Basketball Practice

Chapter 6: Roommate Issues

Chapter 7: Deep Research

What Happens In Vegas Stays In Vegas

Chapter 1: Airport With Tiffany

Chapter 2: Laid On Landing

Chapter 3: Bringing the Girls Out

Chapter 4: Meeting an Ex-student

Chapter 5: Slamming While Shopping

Epilogue

Graduation Night: The Series

Graduation

Chapter 1: Tessa

Chapter 2: Cindy

Chapter 3: Princessa

Epilogue

About the Author

Other books by this author

Connect with Rayne Summars

Acknowledgements

This book is for Jenni – author of The Hollow Girl, and Tumblr writer – for always being encouraging about pursuing this part of myself; it is strange how strangers connect, but you have done it so beautifully.

Prologue

For obvious reasons, I won't be telling you my name, or the names of any of the places that I'll be referring to; but the girls, they wanted their names in, because they wanted to read their own actions here, and so I've left their names - though I don't expect anyone will be able to identify who they are in real life.

I work - teach, actually - in a private all-girls college, where the young ladies are sent to attend higher education. It's one of those colleges that are quite far off from anywhere else, and so we have a boarding school on campus, while another portion of the student population lives in rental apartments catered for students; I own an apartment of that kind, a two-bedroom flat with a kitchen and a toilet, and a rather nice public garden across the street - I had to invest in that using a huge chunk of my savings after discovering that the wages of a faculty doesn't quite pay as well as the rest of the world thought it would. It turned out to be a rather lucrative investment - the college is highly esteemed for the caliber of graduates we produce, not to mention that since most of them are far away from their homes, they have a considerable amount of time to engage in other enrichment activities we hold for them. Culinary classes, for example, and etiquette lessons are particularly popular, as are a number of sport groups.

I'm not exactly a spectacular example of a male specimen; I'm a little stocky from my sporting habits, but I've grown past the age of high metabolism, and my once washboard abs are now covered. Stealth abs, I tend to affectionately address them, shielded from detection by a healthy layer of fats - not enough to give me a beer belly, but definitely enough to fill up a shirt, or hide the definition till I flex them. I'm not particularly tall - in fact, I'm a little on the short side, which makes some people look down on me, both literally and figuratively. I certainly can't get by on my looks, but I've been told that I'm not hard on the eyes, and considering I'm much older than the girls at college (but not by much), that comes as a rather large compliment to award. All that being said, I can hold my weight (and more) in a fight...or in the sack, as I eventually found out.

You see, that's the thing about staying on campus in an all-girls college, where the students don't really have another home to go to after school ends. I tend to see a lot of young girls who are just out of puberty - mostly well-developed, a tad looks-conscious and able to preen themselves to higher-than-average levels of attractiveness, and far away from their parents. This elaborate combination means two things in summary; first, they are very horny, and only just discovering their sexuality, and second, they are feeling adventurous and ready to try things on their own, seeing as they are far away from any parental regulation. And while we do have college regulations on various items (in fact, we have a whole cumbersome handbook which resembles more an encyclopedia volume than a leaflet), sexual conduct outside the classroom is not mentioned.

Most of the faculty here are, for good reason, female, and the other male faculty tend to be on the older side - a result of the reputation-pandering mindset of the governing board. So younger male faculty like me were a rarity, and it didn't hurt that I wasn't too far off from obtaining my doctorate degree; I kept my youthfulness by joining as faculty almost straight off, and I retained my fitness levels. It wasn't that I didn't graduate well - I did, and in fact, that was one of the reasons why this college hired me in the first place; they needed someone fresh, who wasn't too deep into the system over decades as older professors tend to be, and who could be a bit of a renegade, so that they could change things for the better.

So while you might have questioned earlier about why I was choosing to remain in a place that didn't pay quite as well as the more renowned colleges, or in a more accessible location, you can see how this could all work out for me (and not without a tad of luck from the apartment purchase, I might add - that cost me quite a pretty quid). I was surrounded by young, nubile girls who were holding in all that pent-up sexual energy and rebelliousness that they needed to exert as part of experimental growing-up experiences, and I was a reasonably approachable faculty with proper credentials, legally hired to teach them on campus and reside somewhat with them. I didn't have to pay for accommodation (as it was provided, and rather comfortably, I might add), and I had the facilities and resources to keep up my own single lifestyle.

In other words, I had access to a large number of girls to fuck, and as luck would have it, quite a few of them were looking at me the same way too. Besides, you would expect most, if not all of the girls already had their first sexual experiences of various kinds before they had even stepped into the school - so I had to be doing something right. I never did expect this to happen to me - not just because I thought I wasn't the kind of thing that post-teen girls would go for, but also because I wasn't quite attracted to the childish, cutesy kind of girl, something that I had initially expected the student population to be. But as it turns out, I was wrong on both accounts - the girls liked me, for whatever reason they had or perhaps it was just that they were unbearably horny and liked to fuck, and that they were far from the girly, cutesy kind of girl. In fact, most of them were the kind that had some control over their lives, and knew what they wanted; that kind of drive really turned me on, as well as the fact that I knew I was doing something taboo - and I highly suspect the latter part turned them on too.

One thing is for sure - any guy or girl with an active sex life would realise that most of the stuff that we watch in porn is dramatised and amplified, and real life simply isn't that way; you don't have girls with massive boobs pretending to be teens, or girls who can fuck for hours or enjoy gagging on cocks (with a few exceptions), or even guys who can cum multiple times (though I do attempt to rectify that soon enough, as you'll see). Those aren't what you're going to find in my accounts here; what you are going to find is a lot of discovery, a lot of relatively boring but very real and descriptive incidents, and my own personal thoughts injected in.

That being said, I did experience a lot of kinky stuff, and a lot of sex - which is what I'm sharing with you.

The College Capers Collection

First Experience: Tiffany

I didn’t always realise the pleasant situation I was in; which is not to say that without the sex it would have been unpleasant - it’s a pretty decent job, and it looks well on the resumé, and there was financial security in taking this path. But the real perks came much later - with Tiffany.

Tiffany was a nondescript girl - and let me explain what I mean by that. By no means was she stupid (you couldn’t be, if you had entered this college, but then again you could be book smart and life stupid) nor was she a stunner, but she wasn’t a slouch in either the brains or the beauty. She was the kind of girl you’d look at her the first time and let your gaze pass on, but each time she fell into your line of sight again you’d be able to find something new to appreciate in her beauty. Sometimes it was the way her baby blue eyes seemed to go deep, and peer into your soul; other times it was the way her legs naturally formed the most alluring steps a lady could take. I’d hand it to her, she wasn’t into any sport competitively, but she tried a lot of different activities, and that kept her with a pretty good, all-rounded physique, much like she had done with her studies. I appreciated a student like that, and I was mildly impressed by the breadth she had attempted in her courses, and still did reasonably well - which was why I was a tad surprised when she paid me a visit one day, asking for some dire advice about her situation.

Come in, I offered, looking up slightly from the papers on my small desk - junior faculty had their own offices for consultation purposes, but we had a meagre desk, with no backing, and a small chest of drawers on the side which was moveable. I took to shifting its location only occasionally at first, but do so a lot more these days - it offers a great deal of variety.

I sensed no movement, and so I looked up - and that was the first good look I had of Tiffany. Prior to that, the only inkling I had of her was the professional-looking portrait shot all our students had with the school blazer, and her portfolio, which included testimonials and referrals; seeing her in person finally allowed me to put a face (and a body) to the name. She stood a little shorter than her peers, but she was well toned, and definitely well groomed. That day, being a school day, and having classes, she was in the standard girls’ uniform - a white blouse, a tie with slanted stripes (that I abhorred wearing but had to do so on formal occasions), and a light grey skirt. My eyes quickly caught on that she was wearing a bright pink bra with black lace linings - the bright pink and the contrast sharp enough that the colours were clearly seen through the white blouse - and I had the strange feeling that her skirt was hemmed a little shorter than the usual. Not unusual for the girls to be doing that, despite it being against school regulations - No tampering of the official attire were the exact words, but no student ever made it that far in the student handbook, and no faculty really bothered unless it was obscenely short, so the girls knew where to draw the line. Smart ones, they were.

Before it was obvious that I was distracted by her underwear, I looked up at her face and saw a shy expression - one that I typically got from the girls, both from being faculty and popular among them, especially in their talk with each other. More than once I had overheard them commenting positively on my looks, but it never reached explicit levels of description, and I found that it kept them quiet and interested in my classes, so I wasn’t about to lose that edge to my job. I motioned to her to come in, a second clear indication, and in the same motion, extended a hand toward an empty seat, welcoming her to sit down, as I stood up and moved to the front of the table. Psychologists advocate any personal communication to take place without an object obstructing the direct line of vision of the other person, in order to ease the creation of a connection, and so this was my normal posture when talking with students.

This position later proved to be a very handy one, and I was thankful that I had adopted it early on in my career, and gotten used to it.

Tiffany sat down, a smidgen too apprehensive for someone who was doing rather normally at her stage, and I tried to smile to ease her tension. Now what can I do for you, Tiffany? I asked. It isn’t quite often I see you - in fact, I don’t believe you’ve had a need to consult me at all; you seem to be faring rather well.

Tiffany appeared to be searching for words to respond with, but retained an air of confidence about her. She bit the lower left side of her lip while in thought, making her look exceptionally cute and much younger than she really was; it was the expression one would expect on a pre-teen girl when they were concentrating really hard, or trying to think of a way out of a situation they had gotten themselves into. Most of these were just habits from their childhood, but I had the feeling it meant something more, so I waited for her reply, not wanting to pressure her too quickly for one.

Well, she started, the girls and I were having a conversation about some faculty, and we eventually wound up talking about you. She paused, gauging my reaction; I merely nodded. This was not news to me, I had known they would talk - they were young girls after all, and this was expected of most their age. Besides, I had overheard some of them on more than one occasion.

Most people agree that you’re quite a pleasant person to approach, and so they asked me to approach you regarding some advice you might be able to give. I saw her confidence cracking, and figured this might be the tipping point - she clearly needed some assurance that I would help her, or so I thought. I’d be happy to give my honest opinion on whatever you have to ask, Tiffany. What is it?

To my surprise, she stood up calmly and pulled her blouse buttons off, exposing her bra. Before I could recover from the shock of a young, slender, and rather attractive student showing me her covered chest, she lifted the hem of her skirt, revealing a set of matching pink panties, patterned with lace. They both looked very detailed, and rather expensively exquisite. I kept a pokerface on, and was about to say something in protest, afraid that this might lead me into some trouble (remember; this was before I was aware of all the on-goings) when she spoke:

Do you think this set of matching underwear looks seductive?

I wrinkled my eyebrows. It was clearly not the type of question I regularly addressed, nor anything I could have expected. You said you would help, right? Tiffany pressed her question. I took in the situation quickly - she was clearly not shy about exposing herself to me, but anyone who walked in then could very quickly land me in a disciplinary inquiry; so as much as I was enjoying the view I needed to deal with the circumstances in the quickest and most direct manner possible.

Quite frankly, I think you look most seductive in that - the only negative point toward your charms would be the fact that your school blouse and tie are still around your shoulders, and the light grey skirt is not only a mismatch to the colour scheme, but also a little of a testament to your age, and it is rather off-putting to have that awareness lingering in my mind.

No sooner did the words leave my mouth did I regret it; I had intended to give an objective, factual answer, but had unwittingly implied that my student, now in my office and alone with me, should not only not put her clothes back on after exposing her underwear to me, but take them off! I kept my pokerface on, but cringed inside, mentally prepared for accusation to be hurled in my direction. I ran through my arguments with the Board of Inquiry that I was certain would be coming my way, and quickly admitted mental defeat in trying to think myself out of the situation. I was getting fired from my delightful job, and that was that.

Tiffany looked at me, considering my words for what felt like an eternity. The silence was deafening in the tiny room, to the point where I swear I could have heard the fibres of the sofa shift under the gentle breeze from the window. Finally she spoke:

You have a fair point. How does this look then? My pokerface had held up till then, but when she whisked off her blouse, tie and skirt in a practiced flourish, leaving only the matching undergarments on, with her white knee-high stockings and black polished shoes pasted against a sheen of mildly tanned skin, my jaw simply dropped. She noticed, and she smiled. There, that’s the effect I was looking for.

Her voice brought my mind to reality again, and I looked back up at her face - only to notice that she wasn’t quite looking at me, or my slack jaw. Instead, her gaze was fixated to my groin, which held a firm erection as a result of her state of undress, and its presence was not helped (or was indeed helped, depending on how you look at it) by the fact that I was leaning against the edge of my desk, resting my bum on it, and my hips slightly forward. A smile spread on her face, a grin that I would be very familiar with in the days to come - but one that initially frightened me due to the implications. A young female student dressed in nothing but her underwear, with her uniform on the floor of a male faculty’s office, and with the said faculty sporting a massive hard-on. It was a clear recipe for disciplinary expulsion if we were found out.

But Tiffany seemed to know what she was doing - she walked calmly over to my door, took a peek around the empty corridor, and shut it quietly, deftly clicking the lock into place as she did so. The same cheshire grin danced about her lips as she spun back around to face me, and walked her trademark catwalk style, closing the gap between us as she spoke. Well now, Professor, I think it’s quite clear that this is seductive enough an outfit - if you can call it that - for you. Or at least that’s what the little guy between your legs seems to think; only he’s not that little after seeing this anymore, is he? I was frozen in shock, and before I knew it she was up close against me, pressing her chest against my abs, and with her thighs touching my knees. I noted her fabled blue eyes, and was about to speak when she shushed me, placing a soft finger on my lips.

Yes, I know you will get in trouble for this. No, I’m not here to blackmail you. In case you weren’t aware, most of the girls have the hots for you, Professor - and you can’t quite blame them, can you, being surrounded by girls all day, with most of the males being old, grey-haired faculty, and the other faculty being stiff-lipped ladies? You are, quite frankly, the talk of the town, not to mention the speculations that are going around about your…thing. She cupped a hand on my groin as she finished her sentence, and I breathed in sharply.

Ooooh. It’s quite cramped in there, isn’t it? Her voice was more cooing than conversational by now, and I didn’t quite know how to respond - it was far too much information to absorb at this pace, and clearly not something I was expecting in the later part of the school day. My regular schedule before this consisted of a quick run around campus, and then back to my accommodation for a shower, before reading a bit more, watching a bit of TV (and admittedly some porn to jerk off on occasion), and calling it a night. While this was a major upgrade from watching porn, I still wasn’t too sure about the repercussions - she could report me at any time, and I’d have nothing to defend myself with; everyone knew that it was their word against mine, and mine would never hold.

She must have sensed the apprehension, because she took a step back. She called me by name, something that my students were always encouraged to do, but in this instance it had a whole new meaning. I’m not going to report anything. I’m not trying to blackmail you for grades, or lure you into a trap and get you fired. If anything, I - and a number of the other girls, it seems - want you around for as long as we can, and rest assured I don’t have anything on me that is recording you right now. She shrugged the straps off her shoulders and pulled the cups of her bra under her breasts, exposing two perky mounts of flesh with hard, ready nipples. I’d never thought about her cup size till now, and it looked very much like it was well-developed for someone in her second year, maybe a good, fleshed-out, firm C-cup. Her breasts were not pulled down by gravity at all, and stayed proudly perched on her chest, with the marks of the bra’s underwire and frame still fresh on her skin. Her nipples weren’t too obvious - just a tinge darker - but looked like they had gotten quite a bit of attention lately; they were rigid, though not unpleasantly long. It looked like each breast would be just nice for a handful, and I was tempted to reach out and grab them right there, but my apprehension held me in check.

See? All I want - and really that’s all - is some release with a handsome guy, and that lucky guy happens to be you. She edged closer to me once again, this time taking my hand in both of hers and twisting so my palm cushioned against her stomach. If you really don’t believe me, you can check whether I’m hiding anything else under what little I’m wearing for yourself, and she pushed my hand lower down her flat tummy, till my fingers edged between her navel and the elastic of her delicate panties.

That was too much for me to handle - I was a hot blooded male after all, and gods be damned if I was going to pass up a chance at this barely legal piece of ass when it was being offered to me on a plate. I slid my hand down gently and she released my wrist, letting loose a quivering moan as I rubbed past her shaven skin and touched the folds of her pussy. She leaned back and shuffled her legs open, granting me more access - her juices were now flowing, and it was making it easier for my fingers to press past the lips, moving my way slowing into the overlapping layers of flesh. Tiffany was really feeling it, and reached out to hold on to my shoulders as I continued exploring, making circles around the lubricated folds.

Stop teasing, she whispered, deep in concentration, trying to edge as much sensation she could out of my fingers. I smiled; she knew what I was doing - I had deliberately avoided her clitoris and worked my way around the flesh, building up her anticipation and letting the pressure accumulate without release. C’mon, please, she begged.

I granted her wish - and dove my fingers right over her clit, suddenly rubbing it furiously. She stiffened completely, and her voice let loose a guttural groan that quickly rose through the octaves and became a high-pitched shriek. I hoped upon my soul that no one else was around in the offices next to me, because Tiffany’s orgasm, lasting for more than half a minute, would have most certainly been heard. For the whole thirty seconds or more, she was quivering, hips and thighs tensed against my fingers, and her shudders could be felt vibrating through my arm, right up to the point where she stopped summing, and collapsed onto her knees, spent, and leaving my fingers still dangling in mid-air - slick, dripping, and webbed with her cum.

Holy fuck. How did you do that? Regaining her breath, Tiffany broke into a shit-eating grin that rivalled the one she had earlier. I shrugged, and offered back a grin of my own. We faculty weren’t always boring old fogies, you know. She laughed at my remark, recovering quickly from her orgasm, and took a look at her panties - the pink was now dark red, having soaked up a great deal of her juices. She lifted the elastic off her navel. It looks like these are going into the wash - they’re not going to be of much use anymore till I get them cleaned! With a coordinated swing of her hand holding the elastic band, her legs, and a sensual rotation of her hips, she pulled the red cloth off in one swoop. Not that we’re going to need them for the rest of…whatever we’re going to be doing.

She stood up, the light from the window shining on her, and casting her in a beam of light - a very different light, I might add, from what I initially viewed her as. Posed in front of me now was an extremely sexual being, no longer a student, smelling as if in heat, with her bare pussy still dripping her own juices from her orgasm, and her tits pushing the cups of her bra down, still in the same position as they were earlier as she tried to show her sincerity. My dick was threatening to burst the zips of my fly wide open, and I could feel my precum already soaking through my boxer briefs. Gone was the awkwardness and the hesitation - both body and mind agreed with each other now, and it increasingly appeared although there was plenty to lose, there was a rapidly decreasing risk of any of it happening.

Or at least that’s what my body - my penis in particular - was trying to convince the logical sections of my brain. It’s partly true, what they say about when blood rushes to one head, the other fails to function; although looking back, I’ve often needed both heads at the same time to keep up with some of the girls’ creativity and kinky desires. That would be in the near future, it turns out, and for now I was fully focused on two things - the sultry seductress walking closer to me, kneeing at my feet, and subsequently her warm breath leaving a cold sensation on my wet cock head.

Awww, you’ve gone and smudged it already, she whined. I wasn’t sure what she meant, and neither was I trying to figure it out - the moment the words left her mouth, she enveloped my cock with her mouth, her tongue skilfully running under my foreskin and licking the bare flesh under it, before peeling it back, all without ever removing my hardening member from the warmth of her mouth. I gripped the edge of my table, and stifled a moan - I might have had my fair share of blowjobs in my time, but it was some time ago and this was definitely one of the better ones. It wasn’t her first either - she clearly had practice in how to move her tongue, and how deep to go. I wasn’t exactly well-endowed, but I was aware from my jock days that I was clearly above average, and given the slight gags she was making on my dick, I was guessing that her boyfriend (or fuck buddies) wasn’t the same size I was.

She kept it up regardless, bobbing her head up and down, and stroking her hands in time with her mouth. Her tongue was exquisite, lapping around in deliberate patterns, and knowing which areas to prod harder, or be soft and velvety. One usually imagines blowjobs to be like the ones you see in porn - sloppy, slurpy, pure lust and generally without much thought. This was not like that - in fact, most of the blowjobs I get aren’t, which leads me to think that the porn portrayals are exaggerated to stimulate the watcher. A very obvious conclusion, but one I repeatedly revisit logically - and ever more so as I find the non-porn versions more pleasurable, not to mention I actually had some action, which is more than I can say for what I suspect to be a lot of porn viewers.

My train of thought was interrupted by a familiar feeling welling up at the section between my balls and the base of my cock - only this time it was building up far too rapidly and massively for me to control it, unlike my own jerk-off sessions. I didn’t have to, it turns out, because Tiffany sensed it coming, and she was prepared. My knuckles went white gripping the edge of the table, and I arched back, feeling my orgasm explode into the warm recesses of her mouth, massive ejaculations of sperm with each spasm that ran from the base of my cock, blasting her throat and painting her mouth with cum - she gulped each load down, swallowing most of it, with a small few streaks leaking from the corners of her mouth. How long my orgasm lasted, I don’t know - I clearly lost track from the sheer pleasure, having been pent-up for a while, and with no real action other than my Fleshlight for some time. Having a real girl do this, while it was slightly more drawn-out, was far more pleasurable, although in all honesty, I have to say that while a Fleshlight is good and a mouth is better, nothing really beats a real pussy.

I finally calmed down, and the smell of my books and my office once again got through my senses - as did the slow removal of her mouth, sliding down the length of my cock, licking and wiping it clean. She’d done this before, clearly, and she knew how to keep the mess to a minimum. I suddenly realised I was in a thin sheen of sweat, and it struck me how hard my orgasm was.

Favour returned, she smiled, as she wiped her lips with the back of her hand. I have to say, that was a rather huge load though! Tasty, too. I wouldn’t mind getting another of that, or more action, but it looks like you might be out for the count for a while. She was right - as much as I would like otherwise, I was pretty much like most other men at that point of time, still having not realised the perks of my job, and after one cum, especially one as large as that, my cock was softening, with some remaining cum starting to drip from the softening member. Tiffany gave it another lick, not wanting it to drip to the ground, and grinned. It’s ok, really - I got what I came for, and now that I know you’re game, I’d be back for more when you can. She walked over to her pile of clothes, adjusting her bra properly over her tits once again, and I took that as a cue to pull up my underwear and pants. It was a completely surreal experience, one I never expected, and in a way I was a tad disappointed at my own inability to carry on our intercourse - one I made a mental note to attempt to rectify - but Tiffany was dressed quickly, and smiling with satisfaction.

"Professor, I know you were hoping this stays between us, but there are other girls who would like some… ‘personal attention’ from you as well. I wonder if you would be